


Starcrossed

by Silvyia



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-08-31 06:25:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8567641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvyia/pseuds/Silvyia
Summary: Jackson and Allison Rose are two siblings just trying to find their way in this new world, one that requires things from them that they hadn't been prepared to give. Will they give in and become what the world pushes them to become, or will they hold out, waiting for a gentle hand to guide their path? ((Rated M for gore, swearing, and adult themes. Story starts during season 1 and continues from there, eventually changing the show's storyline. Due to there being lots of characters, I only tagged the ones most important to the beginning storyline. I will add more tags as I include other characters.))))





	1. Prologue

She never could have known.

She never could have known this would happen. None of it. Looking around, seeing the dead bodies littering the ground, seeing the blood pooling around her legs, she could do nothing but stare. This was nothing new. Blood and guts and gore was a part of her every day life. Killing was a part of her every day life.

But now, a high pitched ringing in her ears and her hands, her wet hands coated in thick globs of blood, grasping at the still body in her arms, desperately trying to pull him closer to herself, as if it would help. As if pulling him closer would share her warmth with his quickly lowering temperature. As if it would bring him back. Bring him back in the proper way, that is. Seeing his lifeless eyes and bloody body unresponsive to her touches, seeing the people she loved the most coming towards her with the intent of ripping her apart and eating her insides, only for her to then come back as one of them-- it opened her eyes.

She was only vaguely aware of the fact that her bother was screaming out her name, loud enough to attract more of them. Loud enough for his voice to crack as they grabbed at his shoulders and pulled him back, trying to get a taste of his flesh and blood.

She could feel the tears sliding down her cheeks. Or was that the bits of brain matter that had landed on her head after she had shot one of them in their rotting head? She couldn't tell. She didn't care. 

She looked down, at the body in her arms. He was dead. He's been dead for a while now, and she knows she shouldn't still be holding him. He would be one of them soon. He would attack her, all traces of who he used to be and his memories of her would all be gone, soon. And yet she couldn't help but smile sadly at the older man in her arms.

And even as she could feel the mass of cold, deceased flesh began to move in her arms, still, she smiled.

No, she never could have known.


	2. After The Beginning

Allison's eyes shot open, staring up with wide eyes at the dark ceiling above her. Or, they would be staring at the ceiling, if she could even see the ceiling. The room was dark, all lights had been shut off and the windows closed and boarded up, so as to not let any light in or out of the small bedroom. It was for the best, after all. They could see light.

She sighs quietly to herself, stretching her aching arms while staying in the rotted and nearly broken down cot she was laying in. It would make her clothing smell pretty bad, sure, but it was more comfortable than the floor.

She glances to the door on the other side of the room, blinking slowly as the remnants of sleep still clouded her mind. You would think after all this time, she would have learned to wake up quicker.

It is, after all, the end of the world. 

She stretches her back to the best of her ability, yawning quietly, shuddering as she breathed in her own foul breath. She hadn't brushed her teeth in weeks. They hadn't been lucky enough to happen across a house or even some luggage littering the streets with some toothpaste. She'd be fine without a toothbrush, but her breath was getting a bit too foul, even for her. 

But that was just the way it was now. She doesn't have the luxury of getting to brush her teeth squeaky clean every night like she used to. She doesn't get to take warm showers and scrub herself raw with nice smelling soap, or to cleanse her fiery red hair with strawberry shampoo. Hell, she barely has enough water nowadays to last more than a week or two. 

So she sighs quietly, a sadness coming over her as she remembers what used to be. Sleeping in on the weekends, riding her bike to college in the early fall mornings, smiling when she saw the clouds get dark with the promise of snow. Now she could only groan in protest when she knew snow was coming. It meant she would have to stock up on warmer clothing. It meant that she would have to find shelter earlier and earlier. It meant that the sun would go down even quicker each and every winter morning. Most of all, it meant those things had an advantage over her every day, considering they don't seem to feel or be bothered by the freezing cold.

She used to love the cold. Now it's simply a warning for darker times.

Allison is brought out of her tired remembrance when she hears a quiet shuffling of feet below her. Her eyes go wide and her breath hitches in her throat. Below her. There was someone-- something-- downstairs. She looks off to the side, realizing her brother was gone. Fuck. He could be in danger, unaware of the creature lurking below. He could be already caught by the monstrosity. 

It was that final thought that made her jump into action, pushing herself forward up and off of the broken down cot, grabbing the silver gun she kept her by side at all times, and racing toward the closed door to the room quietly, not bothering to grab her pack of items. Her brother was more important.

Standing by the door, she slowed her breathing as to hear what was on the other side.

Nothing.

There was a silence all throughout the abandoned home she was accommodating, silent enough for her to hear the rats running through the wooden floors. Just when Allison thought that maybe, just maybe she had imagined the sound, it came again. A small, quiet shuffling of feet below her. She paused for only a second before turning the doorknob, opening the door as quietly but quickly as she could.

Peeking her head out of the door, she looked to both sides. Nothing. So she crept out, sneaking down the small hallway silently, looking for any signs of life. Looking for any signs of the dead.

She knelt down onto her knees and looked through the wooden railing that showed the downstairs living room. When she saw nothing, she crept down slowly. Each step made a creaking noise, and she flinched at each and every one of them, when finally, finally she had made her way downstairs and into the living room. She listened intently, her gun aimed at the ground as she moved through the room. Her finger tapped the trigger hesitantly. She had to be prepared for anything.

She was standing by the door to the kitchen when she heard it again-- a quiet shuffling of shoes on the wooden boards of the kitchen floor, this time accommodated with the quiet clinking of glasses knocking into each other, and a silent string of curses. Allison raised her gun in preparation, placing her hand on the door, ready to swing it open and fire into the room---

Wait, curses?

She's frozen in her spot for a moment before she sighs heavily, loosening her body and lowering her gun. Her hand is still on the door, even as she pushes it open to see the sight that suddenly made a lot more sense than what she had assumed before. 

Her brother, Jackson, was carrying two glass cups in one hand and a pack of granola bars in the other, along with a half full water bottle held by the cap in between his teeth, struggling to push back a few other glasses that threatened to fall on him from the top shelf he had apparently been searching through.

Allison only watched for a second before clearing her throat, a look of frustration on her features. Jackson turned quickly, causing a glass bowl to fall and land on the counter top, shattering into pieces. He flinched at the sound, but didn't break contact with his sister. The room is silent.

“...What the fuck are you doing..?” Allison asked. Her voice was still thick with sleep, angry at being awoken so early in the morning just to find her idiot brother struggling against a few dishes.

“....getting breakfast?” He responded, although muffled from the bottle in his mouth, questioningly. His blue eyes were wide with surprise at being caught in the act of... whatever he had been doing before. 

“Really?” She leaned against the doorway, raising a brow in question. “ 'Cause it looks more like you're tryn'a pick a fight with a buncha glass dishes.” She glanced down at the broken bowl pointedly. “And losing.”

Jackson sighed, placing both cups down on the counter, sweeping away bits of glass shards with his gloved hand. Once done, he grabs the water bottle from his mouth, licks his lips to wet them, and speaks clearly,

“I was trying to bring you breakfast. Y'know,” he waved his arms as he spoke, threatening to break another glass in the process, “like a good brother does?”

Allison glanced down for a moment, taking in the messy appearance of her brother's outfit. It'd have to be washed soon, or else he may risk getting an infection in any of the various cuts around his body. She sighs quietly, uncrossing her feet and stepping forward to grab the box of granola bars from his hands. He doesn't move to stop her.

“All the good brothers died months ago,” she spoke in a level voice, yet Jackson scoffed at her joke anyhow.

“Love you, too.”

She grins, taking a bar from the box and setting it down on the counter top. Turning around, she heads out of the room and begins ascending back up to her cot. She wouldn't fall back asleep now, that was for sure. Once she was up, she was up for good. It would beginning to get light out now, if the sunlight peeking through the living room window was anything to go by, so they may as well start their travels again now that they were both rested.

“C'mon, we need to pack and get going.”

Jackson simply grunts in acknowledgment, taking a breakfast bar for himself as he follows her up the stairs. 

It takes only a few moments for the both of them to pack up what little items they were carrying with them in the house or on their persons into their vehicle. It was an old, beaten up blue pickup truck that had belonged to their father, a mechanic. He wasn't here any longer, so it was doing them more good than it was for him anyway, right?

Didn't stop Allison from feeling guilty for taking it right out of his garage. 

“I'll take left, you go right,” Jackson speaks up, bringing Allison out of her thoughts. He was standing by the truck's bed, having just placed their pack of food items under the blue tarp hiding their supplies from view. Allison nods, pursing her lips as she pats the gun in her waistband. Jackson returns the nod, turning to leave.

They were currently in an old abandoned neighborhood. But, really, was there any neighborhoods nowadays that weren't considered old and abandoned? It had only been a few months since the outbreak, since everything went downhill for the world, and yet that had been plenty of time for everything to die out in the populated areas and for the larger places to be left behind and forgotten. It was sad to look at, yes, but it made for a wonderful place to scavenge for supplies for the road. 

And so, Allison began searching through the houses on the right side of the neighborhood, starting from the house they had just left, which they had already picked clean the night before after first clearing it of the creatures roaming about. 

It didn't take long for her to meet back up at their original spot, watching her brother wave lazily to her while he leaned against the truck. He smiled, gesturing to the little supplies he had found.

“Not much, I'm afraid. What all did you find?” He asked, standing fully.

She tisked. “Not a lot. A bit of food, a jug of water, and a few cans of tuna,” she listed off the small number of items as she emptied them into the back of the truck, along with the rest of their gear, which mostly consisted of camping gear and spare items, including clothing. Most of the food and water stayed in the front with them, but a few extras got tossed in the back every now and again. 

Jackson sighed, nodded once, and turned to get into the driver's side of their vehicle. Allison covered the back of the truck with the blue tarp, secured it to the end of the truck bed, and got into the passenger side of the truck. She reclined her seat to the best of her ability, crossing her legs and resting her head on her hand as she stared out the window as the truck started. The houses moved by slowly at first as Jackson tried to clear the way without bumping into any of the other vehicles littered about, but slowly picked up speed until they were speeding down the clear road. Sighing, she allowed the blur of the green trees to lull her back into a dreamless sleep.


	3. Stolen

Pancakes. She could smell pancakes before her mind even realized that she was smelling something in the first place. Opening her eyes slowly, she blinked groggily at the green and purple walls around her. Sunlight shone in through the open windows, allowing a small breeze in as well. She smiled, closing her eyes again and snuggling down, deeper into her soft, puffy blankets.

 

It's too early to get up, she still had an hour or two before she had to get to college. Besides, it was her birthday, so she should be able to have a nice morning nap, right?

 

“Allison!” A familiar voice called her name from downstairs. She groaned, frowning. Now she'd have to get up, if he was already here. “Allie!” The voice called again, closer as footsteps thumped against the stairway. He was coming up to her room. Right before he opened her bedroom door, she stuffed her head and feet under the blankets, smiling again.

 

The door swung open, lightly hitting the wall as the man let go of the door handle. The room was silent for a moment as he simply stared at the mass of breathing blankets. She could hear him let out a quiet chuckle before quiet steps walked over to her bed slowly.

 

She held her breath as it got nearer and nearer, until finally... they stopped. All was quiet again, and she let out a quiet sigh of relief. Maybe he left.

 

Clearly, she had spoken too soon, as a mere second later, two strong hands descended upon the mass of blankets and began moving about wildly, tickling the girl hidden underneath them. She squealed in a high pitched voice, startled at the sudden motions. The man above her grinned and laughed with her, unrelenting in his attack.

 

“Ja-- Jack, stop!” She nearly screamed in an airy voice, unable to breath from his hands still moving around her sides. The man above her, Jack, stopped, complying with her request. As she caught her breath, still letting out a few airy giggles from time to time, he smiled, turning around to walk back out the door.

 

“Now that you're awake, breakfast is ready.”

 

She glared at his back, sticking her tongue out, even if she knew he couldn't see it.

 

“I saw that!”

 

– – – – –

 

Allison startles awake, taking only a second to realize where she was and what had awoken her. She was still in the pickup truck, Jackson was driving, and she had fallen asleep with her head against the window.

 

“Sorry,” Jackson apologized sheepishly, knowing that the bump he had hit in the road was what had woken her suddenly.

 

Allison groaned quietly. Sleeping against the window was a bad idea. The constant bumping against her head had given her a serious headache, not to mention the awkward position, with one leg up on the seat tucked underneath her and the other laying across the dashboard in front of her and her arms tucked under her chest, crossed grumpily in her sleep, had given her a crick in her neck. As she moved, sitting up slowly and attempting to twist her head this way and that to get rid of the pain, she glared at her elder brother. The bump in the road had caused her head to be pushed back from the window entirely, meaning it had fallen against the window, hard, as if someone had tried to knock her unconscious.

 

Well, they achieved the exact opposite.

 

“I said sorry,” he muttered under his breath, keeping his eyes on the road. Allison noted he looked tired, and realized he must have been driving the entire time. She twisted her head again, a satisfying crack coming from her neck. Jackson flinched at the noise.

 

“Nah, it's fine,” she mumbled tiredly in her groggy state. She opened her eyes, averting them to look out the window to her side.

 

She couldn't tell how long they'd been driving for, but the sun was much higher in the sky, rays of sun falling through the windows and heating her up, if only slightly. It was still very cold out, and she sighed at the weather. She wished it could be lukewarm all the time; not too cold, not too hot. Although if she had to choose, she'd definitely prefer the warm weather. Summer times had always been fun with her family.

 

She smiled slightly, remembering the first time she went out to a local pool with her brother, sister, and father during a hot summer day. She had been so nervous, unconsciously aware of every bit of fat on her body that she was ashamed of showing others. It was a ridiculous insecurity, of course, because it was just the natural fat accompanying a child's body, but she was upset about it all the same, at the time.

 

“What's up?” Jackson asked, noting her soft smile. He was glad to see it, even if he was confused as to why it was there. Back then, he used to hate how bubbly and constantly excited she was, as if she could never stop smiling, but now, he would give anything to see her happy for just one day again.

 

Allison turned, briefly looking over into her brother's blue-green eyes, before smiling again, looking out the front window.

 

“I was just remembering the first time Dad let me go to the pool with you and....” she trailed off, the smile suddenly falling from her face as silence filled the car at the name she was about to say. She closed her mouth, pursing her lips. No, it wasn't right to be smiling like this. Not with how things are, with what had happened to her.

 

The silence only stayed for a few moments before Jackson spoke up again, in a soft voice, with a smile on his face,

 

“Heh, yeah, I remember that. You were so scared to get into the water, but you wanted to go to the deepest end of the pool anyway.”

 

Allison let out a quiet chuckle, a small, half-smile on her features.

 

“Dad thought you were such an idiot. It was your first time, but you wanted to prove you were better at swimming than everybody else...” he grinned, gripping the steering wheels a bit tighter than before. “You didn't even know how to swim yet!”

 

Allison finally let out a laugh, and Jackson nearly sagged with relief, to finally see her like that again. He laughed alongside with her, the car seeming much more cheery than it was a second ago. Afterward, silence descended upon the car again, but it was a comfortable silence, one that neither of them minded.

 

Allison leaned against the window again, but groaned when the bumping made her headache come back with a vengeance.

 

“Hey,” she called softly to her tired brother, “Let's switch spots.” He pursed his lips, but nodded without argument. He drove for a few more seconds before veering off slowly to the side, coming to a soft stop in the grass by the side of the road. He unbuckled, something that Allison didn't see a need for anymore considering there was nobody there to arrest them for it, but she stopped telling him that long ago. If he wanted to hold onto the life they had before, she wasn't going to stop him.

 

Stepping out of the vehicle, Allison shivered almost immediately, clamping her arms down around herself as she hurried to the other side of the truck. Her single thin, blue long-sleeved shirt was not enough to stop the cold from seeping in. She made a mental note to raid the closets of wherever they would be sleeping next, and hoping that they had clothing in her size. Seeing Jackson huddling up into himself in the passenger side of the truck, she hoped perhaps they had something for him, too.

 

It's nearly three hours later when her hopes were answered. She pulled into the front gates of some fancy, rich looking neighborhood. She slowed the truck as she glanced at each of the houses as she drove, trying to gauge which one would either be the least packed with monsters or more packed with useful items. Coming across one of the smaller houses there, which wasn't saying much considering it was still much larger than homes she was used to living in, she stopped in the driveway, parking it in backwards so she wouldn't have to turn the truck around if she needed to drive away quickly.

 

Looking to her side, she noticed her brother was still asleep, leaning against her side. She grumbled something about him being smart enough not to sleep against the window, before stepping out of the vehicle, alone. There wasn't a need to wake up her brother yet. She would go in, see how many monsters were in there, take them out if she could, or go get her brother if she couldn't.

 

So, strapping her gun securely to her waist and pulling out a large hunting knife she had on her person, she walked up to the front doors slowly. When there, she glanced around the houses surrounding her quickly, noting that she didn't see any of the undead roaming around nearby.

 

Tapping her knife against the front door loudly, enough for anything inside to hear it, she glanced back at her brother again. He was still asleep, although leaned up against the back of the chair this time, and she scoffed at him. A tornado wouldn't be able to wake that guy up if it were heading right for him.

 

She waited for a moment, seeing if anything was coming for her, before opening the door silently. It didn't creak, thank God, and she could only pray that the rest of the house would be the same way.

 

Walking in, she shut the door behind her enough so nobody outside could see her, but not enough to have clicked shut. She raised her knife in her hand, raising the other hand to prepare for anything that may come stumbling her way, and made her way around the house, checking and clearing each room silently. The rest of the house hadn't squeaked or creaked either, just as she had hoped, and she grinned largely when finding the cabinets had some food items left in them. There was a basement and an attic to look through as well, but Allison didn't dare to go in either of them herself. She hated those rooms. Jackson usually cleared them himself.

 

So, lowering her arms to her side as she deemed the house safe, only two of the undead had been in there as far as she knew, she finally allowed herself to relax. She smiled. It was a great place to be in. It didn't creak, it had food and other useful items stored away in some places, and it seemed secure enough. They might be able to stay here for a few days, perhaps even a week while they got their bearings.

 

It didn't take long to wake her brother up and bring him in, giving him a rundown of all the rooms she had already cleared. He was angry she had gone in alone without bothering to wake up him, but was glad about the score they had gotten in the kitchen.

 

“Shit, they have cereal,” he called from the kitchen counter, leaning down to look in the bottom cabinets. Allison let out a quiet chuckle at what her brother had been excited about-- cereal, of all things-- as she made her way up the stairs to the bedrooms. Or, rather, bedroom. It had been a single, married couple that lived here. No children, thank God, and no pets.

 

Entering the upstairs bedroom, she looked around for a moment before spotting the closet.

 

“Please don't be a cliché fancy couple with nothing but golf clothing,” Allison joked to herself, although she was hoping they had some warmer clothes for her and her brother to wear as winter drew closer each day.

 

Crossing her fingers, she swung the doors open. She was stunned when seeing the nearly empty closet.

 

“What..? No, no,” she grumbled, tossing out the summer dresses and, ironically, golf shorts, in her hurry to find something, anything for the winter. When finding nothing, she made a face, then let her anger at the situation overcome her as she threw the clothes across the room and kicked the closet, wincing when her foot came into contact with a bottom cabinet of the closet.

 

“The one house I wanted, and it had a _smart_ couple! Who actually _packed for winter_! Fuck you, you smart ass sons of a--!” She kicked the drawers with every sentence, frustrated.

 

“...We can go check the other houses, y'know?”

 

Allison paused in her temper tantrum, turning to see her brother standing in the doorway, eating cereal dry, straight from the box. She was too upset about the clothing to even bother telling him to eat from a bowl for once. She threw her hands up at him, wanting to argue and say something, but nothing came to mind.

 

“....Yeah,” she finally sighed out in a quiet voice, realizing that there was nothing to really be angry about.

 

Jackson nodded, glad to have stopped his sister's small tantrum, before turning to leave and continue eating his lunch of dry frosted flakes. He walked away quickly, knowing what she was thinking when she saw him with the cereal. He was not fast enough, however, as he heard her shout from the room,

 

“Eat from a bowl, you pig!”

 

– – – – –

 

It's hours later, nearly nighttime, when they've both settled down in the kitchen to sleep for the night. They couldn't have taken the upstairs bedroom, as the bed was settled right next to an open window, and unless they wanted to use their only blanket to cover it up, it was too much of a risk for one of the monsters to see them and get hungry enough to start pounding at the door. The living room was obvious enough-- it was right next to the front door. There was nothing particularly wrong with it, but they both agreed they felt more comfortable in the room where there were no windows to peek into.

 

Allison lay asleep on the kitchen floor, huddled inside the blanket they pass between each other when changing shifts. Watch shifts, that is. Jackson glanced away from his sister, looking back out the window of the living room. He sat on the floor, in front of the couch, able to look out the window without being spotted by anything unless they were looking for him.

 

Shifting his position to get more comfortable, he glanced back at the couch behind him, nearly cringing when seeing the blanket and pillow laying across it.

 

“Ouch, wife kicked you out of the bed, huh?” He murmured, imagining the situation. “Yeah, girls are harsh, man,” he chuckled to himself, glancing back to his sister, before taking the blanket and wrapping it around himself. The husband didn't need it anymore, anyway.

 

Ignoring the smell of the blanket to the best of his abilities, he sighed, bringing his knees up to his chest to warm himself further. He and Allison had searched through two other houses before it got too dark out for their comfort, or, rather for _his_ comfort, and had gone back inside to set up their dinner and nighttime gear.

 

They hadn't found much, but one of the houses did have a large mirror in the bedroom, which he used to briefly fix his image. He had almost choked up at how long his hair had gotten in the short amount of time. His dark red hair had always been something other women loved back then, and he'd always spent time cutting it short and tending to his style. Now, however, it didn't matter anymore.

 

Sighing, his mind briefly flashed to his mother. He and Allison had gotten their fiery red hair from her, although Allison being the only one who inherited her fiery attitude as well. Jackson took after his father, being one more for question first, shoot later. He used to hate how often his sister would get into fights over little things with other kids when she was younger. He always thought violence was a terrible thing, that the world would be better if everything was a bit more peaceful, but now....

 

Now he can't help but realize how often his sister's violence has saved his life in this new world.

 

It disgusted him, but he would do anything and everything he could to keep her safe.

 

Glancing back at her, seeing her long hair getting mussed up from her turning in her sleep, he could clearly see she wasn't having a pleasant dream. His eyes lowered in grief, but recognition. She had always had nightmares back, before everything fell apart, but they only seemed to get worse after everything happened.

 

He faced forward again, faintly remembering looking into his own eyes back at the other house they were in earlier, seeing a bit of Mom and Dad both in his eyes. Allison had taken after their mother in that regard as well; having her Irish green eyes. Now that he thought about it, Allison was a near perfect replica of what their mother had looked like when she was younger, freckles and all. She had her accent, too, although the Irish tint to her voice had been washed out by the years she's spent in America, until it was barely recognizable as Irish. Jackson had it, too, a faint accent from his homeland, and unlike her, he had kept his accent fairly well. He'd spent his years traveling, always going back to visit their mother in Ireland, so his accent was never washed out like hers was.

 

Now he wished he hadn't been away for so long. He wished he had spent every waking second he could with his family. His father, his youngest sister, his mother... He had left Allison behind when he turned 18, leaving to travel alone. She'd cried. They were close.

 

He faced forward, looking out the window.

 

That's when he saw them.

 

– – – – –

 

_She was running._

 

_They were everywhere._

 

_She turned, looking behind her for just a second. She didn't understand why, though; she couldn't see them. She knew she couldn't see them. She could hear them, though, and that was worse, to not know where they were. She didn't know, but at the same time, she did know. She knew they were behind her, chasing her, grabbing at her with their dirty, rotted hands, trying to clamp down on her with their rotten teeth and broken jaws._

 

_So she ran. She ran as fast as she could, her lungs aching, her feet burning, her sides screaming at her to stop, to rest. But she couldn't._

 

_And it was there, when she turned a corner in the empty, hollow neighborhood, that she saw him._

 

_Jackson._

 

“ _Jackson!” She screamed. “Help me, help me, please!” She cried out, screaming as loud as she could._

 

_He didn't respond, still facing away from her, unresponsive. Suddenly, she realized she was no longer moving toward him. She knew she was still running, she knew that if she stopped the things behind her would grab her, but Jackson wasn't getting any closer, the scene around her wasn't moving. It was as if she were running on a treadmill._

 

“ _JACKSON!” She screamed again, crying, sobbing for her brother's help, for anybody's help._

 

_Finally, he began to turn around. He turned fully, facing her, but not looking right at her._

 

_Then she stopped running. She fell to the ground, exhausted beyond comprehension, staring in absolute horror at the man standing before her. No, not a man. A monster._

 

_He was one of them._

 

_It stared her in the eyes, moving closer, speaking her name quietly at first, getting louder as he came closer._

 

“ _Allison..... Allison.. Allison! ALLISON!”_

 

She jolted up, nearly hitting the person above her in the head. When he pulled back suddenly, hands still gripping her shoulder tight enough to hurt, she twisted, attempting to get out of the painful hold.

 

“Allison, stop!” A familiar voice pleaded with her, holding her tighter against themselves. She paused in her thrashing, breathing harshly, hair in her eyes and clinging to her sweat covered shoulders and neck.

 

“..Jack?” She breathed quietly, panting. The man, Jackson, her brother, let her go, quickly turning her around. “Jackson! Oh God...” she cried out, holding his face in her hands. He looked confused only for a split second, before shaking his head and pointing out the window, speaking words that Allison couldn't exactly hear. She was too busy checking her brother for bite marks, scratches, anything that would turn him into one of them. When she realized he had said something, she paused, looking back up at him, eyes wide.

 

“What?”

 

He repeated himself firmly,

 

“Somebody is stealing our truck.”

 

It took her only a split second to process the information before she was on her feet, grabbing her gun and slinging her pack of small knives across her shoulder. Jackson was right beside her, grabbing his own shotgun and a rifle they carried with them for backup. Allison ran out the door, dodging a single one of the creatures that swiped at her the second she stepped out the door. Thinking quickly, she turned, driving her hunting knife through the creature's skull.

 

Jackson emerged from the house behind her soon after she spotted their blue truck, two men inside of it, one in the driver's seat, seemingly trying to hotwire the thing. Her eyes went wide, realizing the rest of their items were in the back of that truck. She began running toward it, raising her gun, shouting at them,

 

“Get outta the fuckin' truck!” She yelled, running toward them. One man looked back at her in surprise, then grinned, jumping into the passenger side of the truck just as the other man finished hotwiring it. The sound of the engine starting up had her heart hammering in her chest, knowing they were going to steal all their things. She ran faster, as fast as her legs could carry her, and tried to shoot at them.

 

“Allison! Allison stop, don't shoot!” Jackson shouted somewhere behind her, fending off a few of the creatures by himself. She didn't have the time to feel bad for leaving him to take care of them himself before she began running down the road after them. She shot a few more rounds off, breaking the back window and the passenger side window, all the others ricocheting or landing off to the side, before the truck was too far for her to aim properly.

 

She stopped then, panting heavily, staring wide eyed at the dust the truck left behind as the two men drove off with their things.

 

“FUCK,” she shouted, throwing her empty gun down to the ground hard enough that a piece of the top metal cracked. She was so angry, so frustrated that they had lost all their things and their only means of transportation.

 

Finally, she remembered her brother, and looked back to see him fighting off two of the creatures at once, holding most of their gear from inside the house. She pursed her lips, panting heavily still, from both exertion and absolute, unbridled fury at those two men, taking a small knife from the pack around her shoulders, aiming with one hand, rearing the other back as far as it could go, and threw with as much force as she could. Too much force, as the knife went straight through one of the undead's brains, landing blade first in the grass beside her brother. He leaned down without hesitation, picked it up, and stabbed the other in the head. He didn't waste a second before he turned and began running towards her.

 

“Go! Go, run!” He shouted, his breath coming out in breathy fogs in the cold night air. Allison began running down the road, following the tracks their stolen truck had left behind, Jackson right behind her, carrying a bag of food and water as well as a single blanket. Allison could only think one thing while running from the undead monsters behind them, reaching out to them and trying to grab them with their rotten hands.

 

 _We're fucked_.

 

 

_**((A/N- well, gee golly, I just wonder what two men from season one could be stealing their things! :O))** _


	4. Tracking

**_((A/N- Woo! Longest chapter so far, with over 6k words! Nice. Let me know if it's too long for your comfort, or if you like it this way. The two 'mystery' men will give their names in the next chapter, although I'm fairly certain you should already know who they both are by now 8) Read and review!))_ **

Jackson used to love the hot summer days. When he was younger, he and his sister would sit out on the front porch eating watermelon slices with their father, sometimes with their mother, too, if she was there at the time. They'd gather around on the porch, laughing as they told jokes to one another, seeing who could spit the seeds the farthest, their father joking that a watermelon would grow inside them if they swallowed the seeds. He chuckled, remembering the way Allison used to actually believe that, the way she would always carefully pick out every seed she could and set them aside for spitting later on.

But now, glancing up at the road in front of the both of them, the image seeming to waver in his eyes from how hot the day was, he found himself wishing it was cold again. Winter hadn't set in completely just yet, hadn't started snowing and hadn't started raining cold pellets of ice yet, so there were a few hot days in between the cold ones. This was the hottest one they'd had yet, letting him know that it would be the last one, and the other days from here on out would be freezing. He found himself cursing, knowing that, just yesterday, he had been hoping for the weather to be warmer. Be careful what you wish for, right?

He glanced to his side, looking at his younger sister, swaying slightly as she walked, panting slightly from the heat. Her plain grey and blue jacket was wrapped around her waist, her gloves had been stuffed into the bag slung over her shoulder, and she had even taken off her over shirt, simply wearing her grey tank top and her jeans tucked into her boots. He sighed, knowing that she should be resting, but also knowing she would never agree to it.

They'd been walking for nearly four days now, taking minute breaks and resting for only four to five hours each, always looking over their shoulders, always trying to keep track of the tire tracks on the road in front of them. The men that had stolen their truck was still heading in this direction, and while neither of them were all that hellbent on catching them at this point, it was the only direction they felt like heading in. The road they were on had yet to end, stretching on for as far as they could see, with forests surrounding them on either side.

Sighing out a breath of frustration, Jackson took a water bottle from the pack tied to his waist, unscrewing the lid and taking a swig of the warm water. Afterward, he handed it out to his side, handing it to Allison. She took it wordlessly, taking a few gulps before giving it back.

After tying the bag shut once more, he grimaced. He was thirsty still, and wanted to drink more, but he knew he couldn't. Their supplies were running short enough as it was, considering most of their things had been in the truck. Which, now that he could look back at it, was a huge mistake. He and Allison were only planning on staying in the building for the night before they either left for someplace else, or took the rest of their supplies inside to stay for a few days. They had hoped that tossing the tarp down over their items would make the thing seem more used, almost broken down. Clearly, it didn't work as well as they had hoped it would.

"...Are you a'right?" Jackson asked quietly, his subtle Irish accent coming through in his tired haze. Allison glanced at him, but said nothing, turning back to look at the road ahead of her as she took a few weary steps closer to him. He smiled softly, turning back to look ahead as well, knowing that that was about as good of an answer that he would get from her at this point.

Allison was still pretty torn up about what had happened that night. Jackson really couldn't blame her, he was pretty pissed off about it too, but he had gotten over it fairly quickly. He'd learned not to get too upset about things in this 'new world' of theirs; sitting in their own anger or frustration would only serve to get one killed nowadays.

Jackson sighed quietly to himself. Their supplies were on an all time low, tomorrow would no doubt be below freezing and would be even colder for every night afterward, and they had no tent or camping supplies. Their brief scuffle with the two thieves from a few nights before had attracted all the undead creatures from their hiding spots, flooding the small neighborhood with monsters, therefore, they had no place to turn back to. Their only choice would be to continue forward, following the one way road that their truck had gone down, if the tire tracks in the mud to the side was anything to go by.

Jackson had briefly wondered why their truck was driving at the side of the road rather than in the center, safest from both sides of the forests around them, before realizing that he really didn't care. Not at the moment, at least. He was too tired and too worried about what he and Allison would do for the upcoming winter. They needed supplies..

Or they wouldn't make it.

– – – – –

It's nearly six hours later when the two of them finally call it a night, finding a small clearing in the forest to the side, a few feet away from the road. It wasn't much, but it was more than they previously had, so it was enough.

Now Jackson sits in a higher branch in one of the sturdy trees surrounding the clearing. With no tents and no way to make any warning systems while they slept on the ground, they'd both taken to sleeping up in the trees, tying themselves securely to a sturdy branch while they slept so they wouldn't fall out of the tree if they tossed and turned in their sleep.

Allison had climbed up into the trees before him, and she was in a separate tree from his own. The trees surrounding the road were thick and sturdy, but not large enough to house multiple people on one of them, so they took to sleeping in separate areas. Glancing over at her, his eyes lowered as he settle down on his branch. She was turned away from him, her back leaning against the trunk of the tree as she slept. He knew from her slowed breathing and the flickering of her eyes behind her eyelids that she was asleep already, and he frowned. She must have been dead on her feet, if she could have fallen asleep so easily like that.

He couldn't really blame her. Feeling the weight of everything that had happened recently, finally feeling exactly how tired he had gotten, he settled down in a comfortable position, or, rather, as comfortable as he could get on a hard and scratchy log of wood, and closed his eyes, ready for sleep. It came easier than he'd like to admit.

– – – – –

_She was alone again, in a dark and damp area. She didn't know if she was in a room or if she was outside, she couldn't see or feel or hear anything. She could smell them, though. The rotten bodies that never had the good sense to just stay dead. She could smell it all around her._

_But she could turn and turn all she'd like, she couldn't see or hear or feel anything, still._

_Yet she tried anyway. She tossed and she turned, feeling scratchy fingers grabbing at her back, at the sides of her face, at the back of her legs, they were everywhere. She cried out, but no sounds escaped her mouth._

_She couldn't speak, couldn't see, couldn't hear, and couldn't feel them. So she stood there for what felt like hours, crying silent tears for help, from her brother, from her father, her mother, from a stranger._

_She simply cried for help._

It was dark when she woke up. She had woken up slowly this time, not reaching up with wide eyes and crying out for help like she usually did when she had a nightmare. No, instead, she found herself tied down to the tree she had fallen asleep in, the bark scratching at her back and behind her legs painfully, and she grimaced, recognizing the feeling from her dreams.

"So that's what that was about..." she muttered to herself, under her breath, so quiet she could hardly hear herself.

She glanced up, looking around at the sky above her. It was still very dark out, for some reason. She glared up at the dark sky, as if her anger towards the night sky would suddenly make it morning. She let out a quiet breath, watching it fog up in front of her quickly, before she finally realized why her fingers and feet felt so numb. It was freezing.

Sitting up as best as she could, wincing at the pain in her back and her neck, she pulled her mid-length sleeved shirt from her bag, pulling it over her head quickly before putting her jacket on over it, zipping the zipper all the way to the top. She sat back against the tree again, pulling the fuzzy hood over her head, trying to warm up the fake fur inside her jacket as she shivered. Glancing to the side, she could see that her brother had the good sense to put his jacket on before falling asleep, almost bitter that he hadn't warned her to do the same. She ignored the niggling of bitter feeling and faced forward once more, glancing at the forest floor below herself.

She froze in her spot, eyes widening slowly at the sight before her. After a moment of simply staring, she brought her numb fingers up to her face, rubbing at her tired eyes quickly, as if the image before her was simply a tired, sleep-deprived illusion. Pulling her cold hands away, she gasped quietly when she saw her father's blue pickup truck still there, still right below her in the clearing, passenger side door opened just slightly and all the lights were turned off.

She glanced back to her brother quickly, and, realizing he was deep in sleep, began to untie herself from the branch as quickly as she could. The two men who stole the vehicle could still be around, she had better get down there and check inside the car, or at least for their items, quickly.

When she had her rope untied and her bag secured tightly around her shoulders, she began to climb down the trunk slowly, easing her cold legs to feel again so she could land safely without tripping over herself. When the branches got too thin for her to climb down, she lowered her legs over the hood of the truck for a second, dangling herself over it as if she were a cartoon character over the ledge of a cliff, before letting go of the tree branch. Her feet made a soft thudding noise as she landed on the top of the truck, glancing around her wildly.

She had so many questions at the moment – why was their truck there? Why wasn't it miles ahead of them? Why was the passenger side door open? Allison found herself darkly hoping that it was because the two thieves who had stolen all their things had been attacked, hopefully killed.

Worming her way out of her dark thoughts, she bent down on her hands and knees to look inside the driver's side window silently, hoping that nobody was inside. Peering in, she saw her hopes were true, and sighed to herself in relief. They weren't here, whoever they were, they weren't here anymore.

However, a sound far off in the distance made her rethink her train of thoughts. She glanced up quickly, nearly giving herself whiplash in the process, looking into the forest ahead of her with wide, wild eyes, willing them to adjust to the darkness quickly, hoping against all odds that it was simply an undead creature. Those, those she could handle on her own, but another person? She wasn't entirely certain she could take someone else alone.

She jumped off the roof of the vehicle, spotting muddy footprints leading further into the forest, where she had heard the barely audible noise coming from. She pulled out her hunting knife in one hand, using the other to aim in the darkness in front of her, poking through the shrubbery as she stalked forward.

If she had really thought the situation through, she would know that heading out to follow a strange noise in the middle of the night alone, without a gun, was not a good idea. But she wasn't thinking it through, the tired haze from her sleep still there, and the adrenaline coursing through her body from the remnants of her nightmare still present, and add the hope of finding their things again, their truck again, and she was simply hoping against hope that it was nothing.

Still, she stalked forward, walking through the forest wall, looking behind each tree she passed as she walked a bit away from the clearing her brother was sleeping in still. He had their only useful gun with him- the rifle they carried with them was out of ammo, had been for the past three nights, but the shotgun still had a few rounds left. Allison told herself she'd be fine with just her knife, and for a while, she believed herself.

At least, she did until she heard the footsteps behind her. Her eyes wide, she threw her arm back, intending to hurt whoever it was by catching her elbow in their gut, but the intruder caught her arm quickly, pushing it forward roughly with a strength she recognized could not be her brother. True to her thoughts, the mystery person behind her reached forward with both hands, clamping one hand over her mouth before she could scream, the other holding both of her arms against her body tightly. She kicked and thrashed at the intruder, but the man behind her simply chuckled in a deep voice, nearly lifting her off the ground with ease, whispering in her ear,

"Lil' girlie like you shouldn't be out here this time'a night."

She paused in her thrashing only for a second as a cold tremor ripped through her gut as she realized the kind of mess she may have just gotten herself into.

The thought only seemed to make her fear dissolve into anger at the thought of what the man behind her might do to her, and she thrashed harder, kicking her feet wildly, feeling pleased with herself when her elbow finally did catch the intruder in the side, his hands loosening for only a second as he tried to correct himself. The second was all she needed, as she brought her knife down with as much force as she could, breaking free from his hold and catching her knife on something soft, the man yelling out in pain.

"Fuck! You stupid fuckin'-" his gruff words are cut off when she runs forward, as fast as her legs could carry her, trying to break through the thick wall of trees to the small, clear area ahead of herself, she could see the moonlight shining through. By the sounds of the leaves crunching behind her, she knew that the man was following her, running mere feet behind her.

Cold fear snaked through her body, pushing herself to run even faster, to escape his grasp. Fast enough to get away, fast enough to be just out of reach of his outstretched arms, fast enough to not see the crossbow brought down on her head just as she run into the clearing.

 _Wait, crossbow_.. _?_

Allison fell like a rock, not nearly hurt enough to have been knocked unconscious from the hit, but just enough that she could hardly see through the haze of her mind, a pain throbbing in the back of her head steadily. She wanted to get up, to stand up and run again or to stay and fight whoever it was, but she could hardly muster the strength to keep her eyes open.

"Ya got 'er?" The familiar rough voice from before spoke up, panting, above her. There wasn't a response to his question, but from the quick grunt he let out as an acknowledgment, she assumed that the other person had probably nodded their answer.

"You a'right?" A second voice asked moments later, not sounding as out of breath as the other man did, but sounding rather tired instead.

"Damn bitch cut my arm. Di'nt even see the fuckin' knife, fuck," he growled out, not sounding very pleased, and Allison let out a breathy chuckle at the pain in his voice. When both voices went quiet, she pursed her lips, finally mustering the strength to pull herself up, trying to stand on her feet, but simply wobbling up onto her knees, one arm braced on the tree behind her.

" 'S what you get, fuckin' asshole," she muttered, her barely heard accent cutting through the silence as she struggled to open her eyes. When she did, she had to blink the drops of blood out of her eyes, and she realized with a startled expression, that it was her own blood. The man holding the crossbow, _yes, a crossbow_ , had hit her over the head hard enough to make her bleed, and she knew she would need to get it cleaned and patched up as soon as she could. She swallowed thickly when she looked at the two men in front of her, neither of them seeming very pleased with her words.

Then she realized with a start that these were the two men she had seen stealing her truck. She could recognize the taller of the two men, wearing a dirty wife-beater styled tank top and dirty jeans. The other man she didn't really recognize, with choppy brown hair and hard eyes. His sleeveless vest nearly throwing her off guard due to the cold weather, but she didn't dwell on it too much. She could recognize the first one as one of the two thieves, so it made sense that the other one was the second thief. This only made her angrier.

The balding man, looking older than the one with the crossbow, scoffed at her harshly, a sadistic grin on his face.

"Well, shit, look at you, girlie's still standin'," he muttered, addressing the other man with the last part. He nodded to the man's words, holding up his crossbow at her, aiming right at her face, or perhaps her chest. The hit over her head was making her see doubles.

"Still standin', still well enough to kick you're fuckin' ass for hitting me over the head," she ground out through clenched teeth, glaring as hard as she could at the man who had yet to speak since she had gotten up. The first man laughed again, and Allison could only think for a second that his annoying laughter would probably attract some more of the creatures, before the thought slipped from her mind as she struggled to simply stay awake.

He pulled out a gun from his waistband, and before Allison could curse herself out for not even noticing it, he had it trained at her forehead from where he stood feet away from her, standing next to the bow man.

"How 'bout I jus' put some lead through yer skull?" He asked, his voice sounding much more pleased than it should in this situation. Allison narrowed her eyes, finally pushing herself up to stand on her feet, trying her best to shift her glare from the bowman to the asshole.

"Fuck you, you fuckin' thieves," she spat out, feeling dizzy from the motion of standing, trying to keep her eyes open for as long as she could. Both men looked slightly confused at her insult, the bowman looking between her and the other man quickly, before his eyes landed on hers again, hard and impassive like they were before.

"We didn't steal anythin' from you," he finally spoke, his voice low as his aim on her never wavered, almost glowering at her now, as if he felt insulted she would call them something like that.

"Like my truck? You didn't steal that blue piece of shit?"

Recognition dawned on the other man's features, and he grinned at her when he realized who she was.

"Aw, yeah, I 'member you," he pointed at her with the gun, raising one hand to clap the bowman on the shoulder hard. His aim wavered slightly with the hit, but he fixed his position quickly. "You 'n that guy you were travellin' with. Where's he at? Or did he die already?" He asked, letting out an airy chuckle.

Then she heard a gun being cocked, and she paused, ashamed to admit that she had flinched when she heard the noise, assuming that it was the man with the gun trained on her head, pulling the trigger. But, no, she realized it was not him.

Allison nearly sagged in relief when she saw Jackson standing at the edge of the small clearing, his shotgun pointed right at the side of the man's head, a dark look on his features as he lowered his finger to the trigger of the gun. The motion was not lost on either of the two other men in the clearing. The man with the bow swiveled on the spot, pointing his weapon at Jackson rather than at herself, and she felt a little bit lighter, knowing she had backup, knowing that there was only one weapon trained on her at the moment now.

"No, I'm still here," he replied coolly, positioning himself to move closer to Allison without having to take a step closer to the men.

As he moved over to his sister, he stood in front of her protectively, and while Allison would usually scowl at his protective nature, she was grateful for it in this instance. Her feet wobbled below her, but she forced herself to stay standing. Her mind began clearing ever so slightly, and she pushed through, hoping that this dizziness would go away quickly. If Jackson and the two men got into a fight, she needed to be there, needed to help him win it.

"My sister 'nd I will be _leaving_ now," he spoke lowly, hiding Allison behind himself as best as he could while still keeping his eyes on the two men before him. The one with the bow seemed surprised to realize they were related, but didn't lower his weapon at all. The other man scoffed quietly, lowering his gun to point it to the ground ever so slightly.

"Really? And what if I wanted to stop ya from leavin'?" He asked, his gravelly voice low with a threatening tone to it. Jackson's eyes narrowed as his finger squeezed the trigger ever so slightly further, a warning without words. The man's smile is wiped from his face when he sees Jackson's unrelenting stance, and he purses his lips as he seems to think this over.

"A'right," he finally speaks. Bowman seems shocked by what he says, looking over at him quickly, as if trying to keep his eyes on the both of them but give the man a hard glare at the same time.

"Whad'ya mean, 'a'right'?" He whispers harshly.

He simply shakes his head at the man, holding out the gun in his hands for Jackson to take. Allison sags in relief behind him, leaning against the tree heavily as she closes her eyes silently, as if ready to fall asleep on her feet right then and there.

"I mean a'right, I give," he spoke, shrugging his shoulders, gun still outstretched. Jackson looked lost for a split second before he took a single step forward, hesitating to get any closer to the duo of strangers. The second man's eyes went wide for a moment as he realized what the other meant. His crossbow lowered as he looked on in confusion, but he glared at Jackson as he stepped forward, as if he had personally offended him and his strange friend. Jackson leaned forward and takes the gun in his hand, lowering the shotgun only slightly as he pulls it from the man's hand.

Seeing his opening, the man lunges forward, landing a punch across Jackson's face as he tries to grab the shotgun from his hands. The momentum forces Jackson back, firing off the gun in his hands as he falls back, the man tumbling to the ground after him, landing on top of him. Allison is jumping forward in an instant, trying to her to ignore the sudden ringing in her ears from the loud shotgun blast as she runs toward the other man.

He only has a split second to think before Allison knocks him over, rolling over to land on her side as the man in the vest hits his head on a patch of dirt roughly. He groans in pain before trying to right himself, Allison kicking the crossbow out of his hands and off to the side, pulling out her knife again. She didn't exactly know what she was planning on doing with it, she was certain she didn't want to kill the man if she didn't have to, but in the heat of the moment, she was simply doing whatever felt right at the time. She couldn't waste a single second to stop and think about what to do next.

So when she dropped down on top of him, one of her knees digging into his chest, her other leg holding down one of his legs, one arm around his throat pushing him down into the dirt, her other arm raised high in the air as she prepared to drive it down into his throat, she didn't hesitate to throw her arm down. When the man saw her movements, his eyes widened a fraction, his arms both launching up to stop her from doing what she had been planning.

Allison couldn't spare a glance to her brother, although she could hear him wrestling with the man behind her, a few gruff cusses slipping through both of their mouths as punches were thrown and they each tried to wrestle the weapons from each others' grasps.

She grit her teeth as the man below her caught her arm, knife inches away from his neck as he pushed his weight forward, trying to wrestle her off of him. After struggling for a brief moment, he turned and twisted his body, sweeping one leg underneath her, pushing his body to the side in order to switch their positions. His legs on either side of her, one hand still clasped firmly on her knife wielding arm, the other reaching back and pulling his own knife from his belt.

Their breaths fogged up in the night air around them as they fought each other, Allison pushing her arm forward and catching the side of his cheek, a small line of blood coming through. He grunted form impact, and when he realized his knife wasn't hitting any of the targets he intended them to hit, he simply dropped it on the ground and resorted to using his fists.

Allison managed a few more scraped on the man before she could hear a haunting noise ahead of her, right on top of herself. She looked up, beyond the man's face, and could only gasp as one of the undead creatures loomed over the two of them, bending down to scratch at them. She shot to the side, knocking the man off of herself in the process, saving not only herself, but him as well. He looked ready to reach for her again before he could see why she had moved so quickly. He jumped to his feet, looking around wildly for his crossbow when he realized that there was more than just one.

Allison bent up to her hands and knees, seeing the same thing he was. She grabbed her knife from the forest floor, jumping up to her feet and driving the blade through the creature's head. It let out a low growl before slumping to the ground, taking her knife with it. Looking over, she could see that Jackson and the other man were still fighting, although both of them had weapons on them now. They were both covered in bruises and cuts and scraped, their clothes and hair mussed from rolling around on the ground for a while. The creatures were surrounding them now, coming into the clearing from all directions, and she nearly came to a halt when she realized that the shotgun blast had probably called them here. Seeing more of them coming forward, she pursed her lips.

Leaning down, she gathered the other man's knife from the ground rather than wasting time trying to pull her own out of the creature's head. The moment the smaller blade was in her hands, she dove forward, killing the one nearest to Jackson. She heard a shout of surprise, a quiet cuss, and looked over to her side, seeing the man she had just been tussling with. He had found his crossbow, but was now pushed up against a thin tree, an undead grabbing at his clothing from the other side of the tree as two of them closed into him slowly. He managed to amble himself to shoot one of them, but due to his struggling, it had only hit the throat. The creature didn't stop, not even as a fountain of black-red blood began pouring from its' throat.

Allison panted heavily, her body aching all over from various wounds and aches, as she looked at the man in hesitation. She twists herself to look over at her brother again, and seeing that both of them had realized what was going on, they were now fending off the creatures, not exactly together, but weren't trying to kill each other anymore. Not yet, anyway.

So she grit her teeth, hating herself for even thinking about it, before she lunged forward, pulling the bolt out of the creature's throat, sticking it back in, through the back of the head. It slumped forward onto the man, but she hardly paused as she bent forward and thrusted her arm upwards, forcing the small blade into the base of the skull of the other. The man didn't waste a second, pulling back out of the thing's outstretched grasp, pulling his own blade from the creature's skull and shoving it forward with force, into the empty socket of the monster behind the tree.

He hardly had a second to look at the woman in surprise for her help before he made a face, pushing her down into the dirt again. She held up her arms, ready to take a blow, but only panting on the ground in shock when she saw him leap forward, killing one of the monsters that had been creeping up behind her.

"Allison!" Jackson called, from somewhere far off. She looked around wildly for her brother, only now realizing he was no longer in the clearing with her and the other man. Instead, she found he was back in the forest again, the man he had been fighting with running ahead of him as Jackson held his hand out, signaling for her to come with them. "It's overrun, let's go!"

She didn't need to hear him say it again before she was leaping to her feet, seeing the man she had been fighting with pulling a bolt out of the head of one of the things around them, before he, too, was running after them. They ran through the forest for only a moment, the undead growling and groaning behind them as they chased after the easy looking meal, before they came across the clearing they were in previously. The blue pickup truck was still there, the passenger side door still open.

Jackson reached the clearing first, jumping into the driver's seat of the vehicle. He began to start of the truck immediately, the engine sputtering for a moment as the other three raced to the vehicle as well. By the time they had broken through the forest wall, the engine had sputtered to life, and Jackson was slowly backing out of the clearing, shouting at Allison to get in. She hopped into the bed of the truck, sliding to the other side and hitting the wall of the bedding hard. She cried out when her shoulder hit the cool metal, only vaguely aware of two other thumps into the back of the vehicle before the whole truck shook with effort as it began driving backwards. It exited the clearing quickly, and Allison could only stare on in horror at the many, _many_ creatures that broke through the forest wall after them, moaning in an almost saddened way, as if they were upset their meal had gotten away.

When the truck began speeding off in the other direction, away from the creatures, away from her previous camp sight, Allison finally turned from where she sat in the corner of the truck bed.

She turned to see the two other men in the bedding as well, and she dropped down to sit with her legs crossed, arms crossed as well, as she glared at the two in an almost surprise.

"What the fuck..?"


End file.
